


Irreversible

by kuro49



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Bottom Jason Todd, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 03:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14155416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: Dick wears his heart on his sleeve. It is only fair that Jason finds himself wearing his scent across his skin.





	Irreversible

**Author's Note:**

> there was supposed to be plot but then the porn finished first and then it was like what is even the point??
> 
> i love a good possessive!jason fic but possessive big bro nightwing is an instant SOLD for me, also i am just the biggest fucking sap for bottom!jason so this is that too.

 

If he thinks of it this way, where it is just the simple press of skin to skin, maybe it wouldn't mean as much.

"What are you thinking about?" Dick asks, slow and soft in between trading kisses for pressing his mouth to Jason's jaw to his neck to have Jason tilt his head back until he can rake his teeth across the column of his throat. Maybe it wouldn't be the staccato of his own beating heart rising in volume.

"Not you." Jason answers, eyes blinking up at the ceiling, thinking how _this_ doesn't mean a thing.

He thinks Dick might be smiling, he thinks he can feel the turn of his lips over his collarbones. He is thinking and thinking and he knows Dick is trying to drive him out of his head.

It's a sigh, a contented one when Dick replies with a murmur across his skin. "That's good, Jay."

It doesn't always start this way and Dick never really tells him when it starts. If he asks, he knows he will, Dick will tell him down to the very last detail if he so much as looks to him with the question in his eyes. But Jason never does and Dick complies in a way that gives Jason the entirety of control he is not entirely sure he deserves (in his right mind, Jason knows this is exactly why Dick does what he does for him, it is not about what he _deserves_ , it shouldn’t have ever come to that).

If he wants to be mean about this, he can call Dick a very good distraction technique and an attempt to tame. But he still has half his mind remaining when he is trusting enough to be wondering how he ended up here again, naked save for an undershirt that is shoved up high enough to have the entire column of his back completely exposed instead of reacting.

And there isn’t a single malicious intent in him when he only feels like he is setting himself up for failure, like he is baring his neck for slaughter because.

Jason Todd is on his knees, elbows digging into the mattress to take the weight of his upper body while Dick Grayson has the head of his cock pressed against the cleft of his ass. This is not the first time, this is hardly about to be the last. He wants to murmur something along the lines of a litany of _fuck_ s but that is exactly the point they are getting to if Dick would just do it already.

But oh no, Dick doesn’t push in like Jason wishes he would. He drags the length of his cock against his hole, smears precum and lube across his skin, leaves it wet and shiny, slow and teasing like he is waiting on Jason to be the first one to break.

Jason knows stubborn, he also knows what he thinks is love and how this is probably that even if he doesn't have the capability to think of Dick in those words and thoughts and feelings when it is all washed out in a Lazarus green. But fuck Dick if he thinks this is what would make him change for good.

A pretty face, a little love is hardly about to undo a death as damaging as his own.

“If you’re thinking you can convince me—”

“Little wing,” Dick starts by stopping him with a stutter of a breath that comes out in a huff of a laugh, “you think _way_ too much of me if you think I can still put together two coherent thoughts.”

He is stretching him out with two fingers, dripping in lube to push in then drag out, careful to rub against his walls until he can spread them out inside of him, until there is room for give, until he can push in and open him up the rest of the way with his cock alone. Dick continues without skipping a beat, saying it in that way that renders any further clarification moot.

"You’re making it very hard, Jay.”

It is a terribly literal pun when he can feel it across his skin, rubbing against his hole still. Dick drags it out like he has every intention of staying, of keeping him right here with him for days instead of the handful of hours they have scavenged together and it is already a luxury to have this much.

Jason doesn't let himself sigh against the sheets when he finally pushes in, his hand coming down hard over his mouth because he wants to tell him it is too much and too fast when he fills him to the hilt, barely draws back before bottoming out once more.

But the fact is, Jason likes it like that, enjoys the way he can be fucked open and even with the force Dick is going at, he has one hand curled around his hip, the other spread against the small of his back like he gets to have him for keeps. Dick has a very bad habit that Jason knows about, he can love and not be in love (even if Jason doesn’t know this part, where with Jason, Dick will take just about anything he can get).

"Still feels like I'm thinking?" Jason lets out between his teeth, it is the furthest thing from surrender when he goes pliant under him.

“You can try, but I’m just going to fuck it right out of you.”

Jason doesn't answer him with anything verbal but there is a show of a shake of his head among the pillows and the sheets.

When he pushes back, fucks himself on Dick, his fingers clenching tight into the sheets. It is a death grip that pulls the thin fabric out from where they are tucked beneath the mattress, shifting beneath their combined efforts. The rhythmic thump of it against the wall, a ragged drag of a breath in and a low groan that is drawn out, keeping count. That is an answer as good as anything else.

Jason is not loud like Dick wishes he was.

Dick finds himself trying to keep from asking all the questions that fill his chest at the sight of Jason in his bed. He wants answers in Jason's voice whether it is hoarse or wrecked or a whisper or even a lie, Dick wants him in any way he will let him.

Dick watches the spread of red just beneath the skin, the blood that goes from the tips of Jason’s ears to his neck to bloom down the miles of skin on his back. If Jason allows him to turn him bodily around so he can fuck into him with their faces inches from the other, Dick is sure the red also goes from Jason’s face to his throat and chest.

Jason doesn’t give easily, and he doesn’t give any more than he is forced to.

Every hand is his very last hand. Dick is nowhere as selfless as everyone else thinks he is. He is greedy, horribly terribly so, and he wants all of Jason while wishing for more all the same. He looks down to where he fits into him, to where Jason's body is stretched around his cock. Dick is not above admitting that he wants to hear every sound, every sigh and gasp and moan and laugh.

“Are you close?” Dick asks, leaning down over Jason so they are too close.

It is the quietest breath from between the clench of his teeth, a near silent choke of a breath knocked out from his lungs when Dick fills him to the brim, the head of his cock fucking down on that spot that has him seeing white. Even then Jason doesn’t let it break him. He doesn’t let him break him wide open.

“Would be there already if you aren’t so into small talk, _Dick_.”

“But Jaybird, this is pillow talk.”

“Then save it for after we’ve _fuck_ —” He tries to grumble but the whine that threatened to tumble out is cut short and bitten into sharp shards like hard candy between teeth when Dick pushes right back in with enough force to have Jason's knees shift from where they are digging into the mattress. The keen goes down with a hard swallow, his face half turned into the pillows, he breathes out noisily and that is the extent he allows himself as he comes.

And Dick is so _much_ when Jason is still trying not to lose himself to one emotion at a time.

Jason doesn't even let himself think of Dick's name when he comes, he tries not to think about how it is his name Dick has chanting like he's his mantra as he follows.

He stays still until Dick is nudging him with a hip. He makes him turn his head from the pillows until he faces him, and he finds Dick marveling at him when he finally blinks his eyes open, slow and bleary. The shine of his mouth is near bloodless from how hard he bit down to keep all that noises rattling loose inside of his chest contained when he came without a single touch to his cock. It is more than just a little bit embarrassing but there is already so much here to unpack when Dick is staring like that. 

There is so much Dick wants to give him at the sight of this wreckage at their own hands. Because he wants him like this, always. Where he is focused and his skin is flushed and hot. Where he is here, and not one foot in the grave with the other about to kick off to halfway across the world or some alien planet.

Some things cannot be undone in one life time. It is not all bad that they are working at this on his second.

“Hey there, hot stuff.” Dick says to him, his smile turning into something of a grin when he aims to press his mouth to his, almost haphazard and only managing to catch a corner of Jason's lips.

“More like a hot mess.” Jason says in answer, his mouth turning into a slow, small scowl when Dick motions to pull out of him. The wince is more bodily than anything else, an obscene wet squelch that makes them both feel downright dirty. He wants to find himself feeling like he is one to be used and discarded but Dick comes to him again and again like he is some kind of refuge.

Dick looks at him, doesn't stop looking at him even though they really need to clean up. Jason thinks Dick just lay down on the soaked patch of the bed where he came and he knows that is the familiar sensation of Dick's semen running down the inside of his thighs. Dick makes it so Jason has a palm turned up, showing him every tell and every line before he is slipping his hand into that hold, fingers intertwining before he is clutching to him with all his strength.

He is hardly thinking at all but this is where he thinks he can live with this a little longer. He thinks there might be a reason he was brought back from the dead. Dick certainly thinks so. They are weathered down day by day. Like corrosion, it is slow and irreversible. The corruption goes both ways when they ruin each other for anyone else.

They are both disgusting and sweaty but Dick wears his heart on his sleeve.

It is only fair that Jason finds himself wearing his scent across his skin for a while longer.

 

 


End file.
